Story of Us
by little miss troublee
Summary: "you took my favorite bracelet in eighth grade. you took my heart in ninth grade. and then you ripped it out and trampled on it." AU.
1. prologue

NEW STORY! YAY! it's a drabble story. all of the chapters will be really short. short chapters=more updates

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I hate you so freaking much. I hate you for being born. I hate you for standing behind me in line in first grade. I hate you for dipping my pigtails in blue paint. I hate you for "accidently" closing the door on my hand in sixth grade. I hate you for stealing my favorite bracelet in eighth grade. I hate you for stealing my heart in ninth grade. I hate you for ripping out my heart and trampling on it.

I hate you.

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(don't worry, it gets better)

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	2. chapter one

please don't fav/alert without reviewing. thankyouverymuch.

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We met on a Friday.

Of course we had met before; we were friends in elementary school, but then you dipped my hair into blue paint and our friendship died. We hated each other in middle school—after all, you _did_ close a door on my hand. But this was high school—and high school was a new beginning.

So we _really _met on a Friday.

Mrs. Block was hosting her annual "Black and White Benefit for the Colorblind" and of course you and your idiot friends just _had_ to show up in bright neon hoodies and jeans.

You took one look at me, and smiled. Apparently l looked "different" in a dress.

It was the beginning of a beautiful, new relationship.

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review. i will try to update tomorrow...


	3. chapter two

thank you to **Smarticle866**, **ItsaTay, anon**, **a little destruction**, **Dusty714**, **Cela Fille**, **laughyytaffyy**, **dearxdarling**, **LittleMissPerfect**(dot)**duh** **, **and **dani **(thanks for your gmail review!) for your reviews, they are amazing!

disclaimed.

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I wouldn't have been able to survive math freshman year without you.

We were the only freshmen in the class of all sophomores. They were big and they were scary and you saved me from them.

We talked about squirrels, we talked about Mr. Rhodes—the epic English teacher, we talked about Ms. Harold—the horrible history teacher, we talked about soccer, we talked about Massie, we talked about life, we talked about quantum physics, we talked about clouds, and we talked about whatever was on our mind.

We just talked.

(But do you want to know a secret? Whenever we would talk, I would never look at you directly in the eye. I would always look at my notes, or at the board, or at the wall behind you. Why? Because every time I looked you in the eye, I always found myself blushing at the deep pools that were your eyes. Every time I looked you in the eye, I always found myself falling way to fast. And that terrified me.)

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please don't fav/alert without reviewing! thankyouverymuch!

review.


	4. chapter three

thank you to **update**, **alphaloooover**, **one of the fallen**, **a little destruction**, **dani**, and **anon** for your review(s).

disclaimed.

(sorry this is so short and filler-y. i'm not too proud of this chapter... but if i get enough reviews/inspiration, i'll update tomorrow!)

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And then there were soccer practices.

Of course we were on different teams, but there was only one field, so we practiced together.

You never looked at me once. You talked to your friends, you talked to _my _friends, but you never talked to me. You just ignored me. (It was a surprising change of pace from the torturing in middle school—but I thought we had built up an actual friendship.)

And each time I saw you score a goal, or block a goal, or pour your water bottle all over yourself, I fell a little bit deeper.

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please don't fav/alert without reviewing.

and don't forget to review.

oh, and HAPPY HALLOWEEN!


	5. chapter four

thanks to **dusty714**, **one of the fallen**, **dearxdarling**, and **finding-forever. **for reviewing!

sorry this is so short! i promisepromisepromise that I will update soon!

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Do you want to know another secret?

Every time you would talk to me, your words would vibrate in my head for the next five minutes. Even if we were talking about the stupidest of things (remember when we spent ten minutes during math talking about how rubbery rubber ducks were?) your voice would still stay in my head. It was almost like it was a song that was stuck in my head.

Your voice was the first things about you that I loved.

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Okay. Okay. Okay. This may seem really stupid. And you may be thinking "how can I fall in love with someone's voice, but have you ever met that special guy who's voice isn't too low but isn't too high? And it isn't too harsh, but it isn't too soft. It isn't too sarcastic, but it isn't too wimpy…And so on…

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	6. chapter five

thank you to** ItzKevin97**, **x-wandering dreams**, **ixdookiie**, and **allthelostsouls. **and a very special thanks to **anonymous** for reviewing all five chapters in one go!

**disclaimed.**

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I wish I was Massie Block.

We had all known each other since we were in diapers. When you and your friends decided that girls were "icky", Massie was the one exception.

Massie was the type of girl that attracted people to her. Wherever she was she could be the center of attention. Even perfect strangers would fall in love with her. Everyone fell in love with her charming (fake) personality. And she had people practically _lining up_ to ask her to dances.

Massie was beautiful. I was average. Massie was model-skinny. I was "not fat, but not skinny". Massie was loud and outgoing. I was quiet and shy. Massie was perfect. I was the furthest thing.

(So I guess I can't blame you for picking Massie over me, can I?)

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**please review.**


	7. chapter six

**question: do you want me to reveal the pairing at the end, or do you want to keep it as a mystery? and if you want me to reveal the pairing, what pairing should it be? let me know it your **reviews**.**

**disclaimed.**

ps. sorry for the filler chapter. the chapter after the next chapter is my favorite chapter. i'm building up towards that. just hang in there!

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We all tried out for the Westchester Travelling Soccer Team the summer before sophomore year.

Practices were…stressful. The only moments I cherished during those incredibly hot and painful days were the times that you and I "accidently" met up at the water cooler. We would exchange pleasantries, talk a little bit, and then coach would scream at us to get our "fat, lazy asses back onto the field". We would then roll our eyes and jog back to the field.

During lunch, we would all sit together at Table 18—the table that Massie had claimed for us.

Of course Massie was in the center of attention with everything revolving around her. I would sit at the end of the table, quietly eating my lunch—sometimes Massie and you would include me in your conversations. But every time I would talk, I would look you in the eye—which would cause me to start blushing, stuttering, and tripping over my words.

(I remember when I would say "moanly" and "mastly" instead of "mainly" and "mostly", because I was so nervous to be talking to you.)

But other than that, I was the ignored member of our group.

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**please review.**

**thanks.**


	8. chapter seven

**hii. it's been a long time. sorry!**

**so, i've decided on a couple. i really really enjoyed reading your suggestions, but there are two people that _really _fit the characters in the story and i'm going to use them. actually, i've been planning on using this couple since i started this story. but thanks for the suggestions!**

**anyways, this chapter=crap. i really don't like it. i just needed to somehow conclude the events from the last chapter and transition into the next chapter (which is my FAVORITE chapter by far). i will post that sometime this weekend.**

**disclaimed.**

**thank you to **lovely, briony-rose, anonymous, dusty714, dearXdarling, blondie in pink, and a little destruction **for reviewing!**

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The Westchester Travelling Soccer Team took twenty of the thirty people that tried out.

I was one of the twenty. You were not.

You hated me, yet, you still talked to Massie who also made the team.

It's nice to know that you don't choose favorites.

You were actually really close to making the team. Your parents hired some semi-professional soccer teacher to give you and a few other people private soccer lessons. And apparently you were a few points short of making the team.

My parents hired some college kid who was really good friends with Coach to give me private lessons.

To tell you the truth, I almost didn't make the team. To get onto the team, Coach had to "grade you" out of 100. Everyone with an 80 or higher got in. I got a 79. But my private coach talked to Coach and he made an exception for me.

(But I told you and everyone else that Coach gave me a 92 and told me that I was one of the best players he had ever seen.)

I think that's fair, though. You hurt me, and I hurt you back. And eye for an eye.

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**review?**


	9. chapter eight

**author's note: **i love this chapter. it's my second favorite chapter of this whole story and i hope you guys like it!

**disclaimed.**

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You asked Massie to Homecoming the fall of sophomore year.

On the bus rides home from WTST (Westchester Travelling Soccer Team) games and practices, Massie told me all about how you asked her.

It was during your third period English class. While Mrs. Anderson was droning on about the Iliad, you snuck a note to her, asking her to homecoming, and blah blah blah.

(She kept the note in the front of her binder—and every time she took out her binder, it taunted me.)

Massie showed me a picture of her dress two days before Homecoming, it was a low-cut, dark blue halter dress that was barely long enough for school dress-code (apparently you helped pick it out for her).

The Monday after Homecoming, Massie told me _all _the details from the dance. (It took every ounce of will power not to a.) punch her in the face b.) scream until I lost my voice or c.) cry until I couldn't any more.)

According to Massie, you were a perfect gentleman, you bought her a corsage, you opened the door of your mother's car for her, you paid for her dinner, and you were just so _perfect_.

As she told me every single detail from that night, I just closed my eyes and pretended it was you and I slow-dancing to _Fall for You_.

But bitter truth of the matter was that it wasn't you and I slow-dancing, it was you and Massie. And I silently hated her for that.

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**review?**


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